#tsar ivan v

[foreverinthepagesofhistoryy]

Eldest daughters of all Romanov Monarchs of Russia gifset

❦

[kasagia]

I love you... I am sorry V

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova/The Darkling x fem!witch! reader Summary: The truth is told and the enemy is exposed. But will your saviors make it in time before it's too late to save you? Warning(s): smut, 18+, violence Aleksander Morozova's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~Main Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Part 4 ~•♤♤♤•~ Part 6 ~•♤♤♤•~

Aleksander had had many sleepless nights.

Most of this time he spent on reading reports and creating plans and strategies in his war room. The rest of them – which is very little, considering how many were to do in the Second Army – he spent in his bed. Those nights were the hardest. On those nights, he tried to push away the memories of his time with you that his treacherous mind loved to torture him with. He tried to throw them out as quickly as they began to disturb his peace of mind.

But could he ever say he felt at peace?

He knew he could. He had only felt it a few times in his very long life, and almost every time you were around.

He remembers perfectly well that one particularly sleepless night in which he realised... in which he allowed himself to think that you were his peace.

It was after one campaign against Fjerda. Most of his men were either dead or badly wounded, but they had won. At a high cost. But he could take a moment's respite from the Drüskelle hanging around the Ravka's border.

He was in his tent, his shadows moving calmly around the room as if they too needed to take a breath and calm down after the fight he had had hours ago. He absently wipes the blood from his hands, watching the water in the bowl turn various shades of red. He winces as one of the wounds on his hand begins to burn from the contact with the water.

He closes his eyes and listens to his surroundings, trying to block out other stimuli, especially the growing feeling of hopelessness within him. Another life lost. Another escapade against Fjerda. Another hours wasted negotiating with the Tsar.

Once again he watched the deaths of those devoted to him. He was starting to have enough of all of this.

He is torn from his dark thoughts when he hears the movement of his tent flap. He turns and nods at the bowing young heartrender. Ivan if he remembers correctly.

The young soldier surprisingly doesn't tremble before him or act all hot-headed like most of his Grisha did after his little sideways shadow show on Fjerdans. Aleksander barely suppresses a smirk as he accepts the sealed letter from him.

"What is this?" he asks, opening the letter with a sigh, expecting another irritating note from the King or the General of the First Army.

Instead, he saw your handwriting.

Dear Sasha.

He swallows, his lips suddenly chapped, and he knows Ivan can feel his heart racing as he reads the nickname that only two people have dared to use on him. Ulla, when she was little, and you.

"Some woman asked me to bring this. She said it was a matter of state. She seemed to know you, moi soverenyi."

"Where is she now?" He asks, swallowing as he sits down in the chair in front of the makeshift desk, not daring to let go of the letter. How pathetic he was to allow you to continue to have such power over him.

The years spent away from you had done nothing to his foolish heart. His mother would have mocked him if she had had the chance if she had seen the reverence he gave to the scrap of paper you had written to him.

"I left her with the Oprichniki. Should I bring her here?" He nods at the other man's words, sending Ivan out, too focused on the piece of paper in his hands. Too focused to stop them from trembling with the flood of emotion only you could cause in him.

He knows perfectly well that the man will not find you in the camp anymore. You probably left as soon as his Grisha set off to give him this letter.

Typical of you. Dropping in and out of his life whenever you felt that way. Although the last time it was him who threw you out.

Aleksander stares at the yellow note, wondering for a moment if he should not burn it in the fire of one of the candles. It would certainly spare him unavoidable suffering that reading even one of your words carried with it. And hours of thinking about you.

But his life was anything but merciful. And he himself could not stop the longing and curiosity festering inside him from desperately following each line you wrote.

I've heard what happened. I'm sorry. Don't blame yourself. You probably did everything you could and more. Sometimes there are things we can't control… and sometimes we regret doing anything about it. But it's better to do too much than too little, right? I'm thinking of you. Often. Even if you don't want it. Take care of yourself, You know who. P.S. Go to a healer. Don't try to be a bigger hero than you already are. I saw what you did, and it was both impressively stupid and brave. Even for you.

He snorts, shaking his head. He wants to crumple up the scrap you dare call a letter of state importance, tear it into little pieces, but all he does is press his nose to the paper, inhaling the scent of your perfume.

And saints only know that it's been a damn while since he last smelt that scent.

Disappointment settles on him, tightening around his chest like the ropes that Fjerd had recently bound him with. But what exactly did he expect from that letter? What did he expect from you? That you would stand before him, trying to comfort him in his darkest hour as only you can? Pathetic. Weak.

He tucks the letter into the pocket of his kefta and stands up to actually go to the healers' tent. Instead, he stops halfway out of the tent as a healer in a red kefta enters.

"Can I help you in any way, moi soverenyi?" She asks before Aleksander can question her presence. He sighs and nods, reluctant to explain to her what hurts him most.

He strips off his kefta and shirt and lets her work on his wounds. Her hands roam over his skin, soothing him from the pain. His thoughts still circle around you. Was it you who summoned a healer to his tent? Or was it Ivan who sent someone to check on his wounds as a precaution? Were you on the battlefield, since you claimed to have seen what he did?

"Could you lay on your stomach, General? I'd like to work on your back." He nods and does as she says, his thoughts still on you.

It was a nice change from the compliments of the bloody battle he'd just fought. Still, it made him feel like a naive, lovesick teenager.

And then he notices it. A small pendant hangs from the healer's neck. A glass heart. He stiffens a little at her touch. At YOUR touch, because he knows it's impossible for you to willingly part with the necklace that grants you immortality.

He tries to take calming breaths, planning what he'll do with this newfound revelation. You were here. You ACTUALLY were here. You'd been healing his wounds under disguise, knowing full well he wouldn't want to see you.

And somehow this turn of events seems better to him than if you had just listened to him and actually left him all alone.

"It was dangerous… what you did today… you used up a lot of your powers, my general." He hears you comment in a fog, too busy thinking about his next move.

He almost winces at the strange, high, almost squeaking voice instead of your mid-tones that would probably do more for his wounds than your strange witch powers.

"It's nothing I haven't done before." He responds, sitting up as you remove your hands from him.

He wonders how long this transformation spell will last on you. And what exactly were you planning to do by coming to him in disguise?

He gets his answer pretty quickly when you bow to him, trying to get out of his tent. He automatically reaches for you, holding your wrist in a tight grip. Without thinking, he pulls you onto his lap, and before you can even say a word of protest, he wraps his hand in your hair and pulls you into a needy, desperate kiss.

You gasp against his mouth in shock, only to return his kiss with an equal amount of passion and fire. You grip his hair, pressing that foreign body against his, and he almost growls. He would give anything to have your real curves pressed against him, to have your quiet moans echoing off his lips as he gave you small breaks to breathe, just to devour you again. But he knew you both had fucked up too badly to go back to how things were. That's why he takes every fake, stolen time you give him.

He closes his eyes, his lips brushing the line of your jaw, caressing every tiny inch of skin you give him access to. He feels you freeze in his arms as you realise your necklace is on display. For a moment he allows himself to wonder what your next move will be, but any rational thought or plan quickly slips from his mind as you run your hands along his chest, over his abs, to the waistband of his pants.

And for a moment he allows himself to think that you are as hopelessly into him as he is to you.

Any control he had crumbles as soon as the healer's kefta is ripped from you. He lays you on his bed of bearskin and pillows, unpacking the rest of your clothes, tracing the curves of his new body with his lips. A body that, with every second spent beneath him, becomes more and more like the one that haunts him at night in his sleeping chambers in the Little Palace.

You don't seem to care, though, too busy trying to rip the last of his clothes off of him. Soon enough, you're a chaotic mess of limbs as both you and he try to touch, caress, feel, rub, kiss, and bite every bit of skin you can reach.

Your soft moans and whimpers change over time, becoming more and more like the ones Aleksander knew, the ones he had enjoyed countless times. He presses himself against you, his mouth devouring every quiet gasp you make, every tiny hint of pleasure.

He wants to get lost in this feeling.

He wants to forget everything that happened today; he wants to forget how much he shouldn’t be doing this, and most of all, he wants to forget how much he longs for another moment like this with you.

He pulls away from you for a moment, just enough to look into your eyes – your real eyes and face – and for a moment something inside him breaks. Years of suppressed longing momentarily overwhelm him so much that tears begin to appear in his eyes.

Only at that sight do you realise that your spell has broken, that now he's seen the real you. But he doesn't let you move even a millimetre. With one hand he presses both of your wrists above you; with the other, he cups your cheek as he finally brings you together as one after years of separation.

And only saints know that this feeling is the closest to heaven that he will ever be.

You gasp, grabbing his arm, digging your nails into him – into the same spot you had healed with such urgency earlier. All you can do is moan softly beneath him, squirming against him, pressing yourself even closer to him, allowing him to take from you whatever he wants.

And he has no control. He takes what he wants, lets his lust and greed take over him completely, and for all of this, he is rewarded only by your sweet sounds, your scent, and your feeling close to him.

In his mind there is nothing but you, nothing but how you feel in front of him, how you have so easily gone from complete shock, even fear, to lust, to complete surrender to him.

Maybe he held the same power over you that you held over him?

“Aleksander… Sasha…” You mumble against his temple, shuddering beneath him as you both reach your long awaited fulfillment.

His grip on you tightens, practically trapping you in his chest as he continues to burrow deep inside you. He knows you could disappear at any moment, that as willingly and unexpectedly as the saints had given him this moment, they could so quickly take it away from him. He could be alone in the darkness of his tent again. So he clings to you, clinging to you like a lost sailor to a lantern, and for that brief moment you feel like the only light in his shadows. His poison and salvation all in one.

"Don't call me that." He mumbles against your neck and bites. You gasp, biting your bottom lip, holding back a cry as he marks you, wanting you to carry at least some permanent piece of this encounter.

"I... I missed you." He growls at your confession, like a rabid animal sensing danger. But... were you really one to him?

Was it really wise to hold on to that grudge from ages ago when this... when what happened tonight could be his everyday reality? Yes. Otherwise, his persistence would have been for nothing. Otherwise, all of this... all of this separation would have just been wasted time between you two.

"Did you miss me or the way you could have used me?" He growls, not letting your sweet words fool him even as you reach for his cheek with all the tenderness he lacked and gaze at him with an adoration that makes his heart momentarily stop being overwhelmed by your feelings. Your remorse.

"I… I love you, Sasha… I'm sorry that.." He kisses you, cutting off anything you might have said.

He kisses you with anger, an intense burning passion, wanting to punish you for even having the nerve to try to explain yourself and whitewash yourself from such obvious guilt as you have.

He rolls you onto your stomach and onto your knees for him, his hand in your hair and your head pressed against the fur so he doesn't look you in the eyes as he takes you with all the fury he has for you.

He wants to make you feel as used as he did the day he found out you used his blood to create that damned necklace. He wants you to feel as violated as he does when his doubts got the better of him, convincing him your love was a sham, that you had planned to use him for his immortality all along.

And when you're both exhausted, when he holds you safely in his arms with your head on his chest, his hand in your hair, your ear pressed to his heart, he doesn't feel the festering resentment or the disgust for you.

He feels fulfilment. Safety. Peace he hasn't known in ages. He had peace in you. Home. Even after all these years.

And this realisation it's like a healing balm to his broken heart and a poison that eats at his insides worse than merzost ever did.

He trembles, tightening his grip on the necklace he kept safe in his kefta's pocket. He will find you. He will find you and bring you back where you belong. To him.

And he will do it even if you no longer want it.

Mijomir mumbles the words – in a language that Aleksander strangely does not understand – as he reads them from your book, tracing his finger over each line you have written.

He thought he had learnt patience over the centuries. But with every second of delay, when the wizard mumbled some strange words surrounded by a few of your crystals and things, it seemed to him that this patience was just an illusion.

"How much longer will it take you?" He grumbles, leaning against the wooden pole supporting the tent. Ulla gives him a reprimanding look for rushing him, which Aleksander conveniently ignores, staring warily at the mage.

"An hour, maybe two. It would be faster if you gave me that damn necklace instead of being a jealous and possessive dog in the manger."

Aleksander automatically tightens his grip on your necklace, which he kept safely in his kefta pocket. Giving it to this strange man meant risking losing it if he was indeed a fake reptile. A risk Aleksander was not willing to take.

So he stubbornly looks away and decides to wait a little longer. Maybe if he summoned his shadows, it would motivate the wizard to search for you more effectively?

"We've sent our best heartrenders out to scout. The Fjerdans shouldn't get very far with her. We'll find her. Sooner or later." Ivan reports to him as he enters the tent they have pitched in a clearing near the border with Fjerda.

Aleksander regrets not having placed a fold here. Or that he was not more persistent and ruthless in his plans to enlarge it. If a wall of shadows guarded the borders of Ravka, you would never have been kidnapped. Even witches, tempted by the bounty on your head, would be afraid to venture into the unknown territories of the lands protected by the wall of shadows.

"That's not enough." Aleksander cringes at the sound of your little friend's irritating voice. Mal annoyed him with his stupidity and impulsiveness, but Mijomir with his… cocky confidence was a bigger test of his patience. Patience, which he had already run out of after you disappeared.

He still couldn't get out of his head the way that magical scum tenderly took care of you. If he could, he would cut off the wziard's hands just in case to make sure that he would never have any opportunity to touch you agin.

"Maybe she was kidnapped by a Fjerdan, maybe not. We don't know for sure. Those... witched who were hunting her could as well take part in this."

"Maybe she ran away of her own free will? It wouldn't be the first time this has happened." Zoya says mockingly, earning her three enraged, irritated looks.

"Y/N isn't that much of a drama queen. She wouldn't do something like that. Besides, she wouldn't leave me, Mijomir, and my brother alone without a word or anything." Ulla huffs, moving away from Zoya and approaching him and Mijomir to stand closer to the wizard.

"I wouldn't be so sure about that last person, but Ulen'ka's right. This is a kidnapping, not an escape. We just have to find out by whom. And if someone were to so generously give me an item she hasn't parted with for practically centuries, I might be able to establish a connection with her to find out." Mijomir comments, staring meaningfully at Aleksander.

"And how do I know for sure you didn't have a hand in this? You showed up just a few hours before she disappeared. Maybe you were after her head too."

Ulla snorts indignantly at his words, but before she can even utter a word in the magician's defense, he approaches him, undeterred by the dark gaze and shadows that Aleksander summons around him.

"The last thing I want is for her to die. She is my dearest friend. And even if she wasn't the truth is that If she would die, I will die too. And believe me, general, I am not a suicide."

Aleksander frowns at the confession. The possessiveness in him comes back to life with a vengeance, thinking that it was more of a… romantic confession. As for his little witch. His Y/N. As soon as this carrion is no longer useful, he'll squeeze the life out of him.

"What do you mean? Why would you die with her?" Ulla asks Mijomir, causing all eyes in the crowd to focus on him.

"I… it's a long story. And Y/N should probably tell it herself, but since she's been too much of a coward all these centuries and doesn't want to involve you in her affairs, I will." Mijomir comments, shifting his gaze between Aleksander, Ulla, and even Baghra. "Where to starts... ugh. We… when Y/N found out that you live much longer than us… she could have looked for the answer to that problem in some pretty old, morally questionable books. And of course, as stubborn as she was, she found it. It was old magic, probably from when Baghra was a child."

Mijomir earns a snort of amusement from most people and a crooked, nearly invisible smirk from Aleksander, who is nevertheless more focused on absorbing the answer to the question that has always plagued him, and which you have avoided.

What exactly did you give in exchange to be immortal like him?

Aleksander knew that you killed your witches' coven to which you belonged, sparing no one, that you put him to sleep and took his blood for the spell. What else was in it?

"I… I stuck close to Y/N back then. We still are. But… we weren't exactly alone. Before she met you." Here Mijomir nods reluctantly in his direction. "We… we had a trio of sorts. Me. Her. And Luke."

Aleksander frowns, certain he’s heard that name before. His memory flashes back to the not-so-flattering moment when one of the witches attacked you for gold on your head the first time.

Aleksander and the others watch in disbelief as you fight the witch who attacked them earlier. He knew he should have protested against being tied up from the start. If he hadn't had to fight David's shackles that bound his power, he would have broken free from the witch's spell long ago. You've taught him this many times. Just in case.

"Not so vulnerable." You gasp and use your magic to throw the witch off of you. You sigh, pressing a hand to your neck and feeling the sticky blood on your fingers. Aleksander is seething with rage. The necklace. You didn't have a necklace. "I still have a few tricks up my sleeve. So if I were you, I wouldn't taste me. What do you want?"

"Kill you. Just like practically all of the witches from Ravka and Fjerda."

Aleksander fights the forces that bind him with a hundred times greater strength and zeal after these words. His shadows try to penetrate both – both the spell and the powers of his best duraste. And probably never in his entire long life has he felt such fear.

"Oh please. I'm not that popular." You joke, earning a slight twitch at the corners of her mouth. You sigh, sitting down by the fire and nodding for her to do the same, ignoring the stare he gives you. "I thought you had finished your hunt for me a long time ago?"

"It's nothing personal. The Great Witch has a bounty on your head. And I need the money they offer for your head. I happened to be passing by and heard your name. I decided to try my luck."

"And they say it's a bad thing to gossip." You mock, throwing a quick glance in his direction. "Since when does Reyana want me dead?"

"The leadership in the coven has changed since you were gone. Reyana is dead. Luke has taken command."

"Luke… as in…" Ulla begins, interrupted by Mijomir.

"Yes. Luke, the new leader of all witch covens. The one who sent for her head. It's… a long story. Let's just say he's resentful that instead of being his queen by his side and ruling over us witches, Y/N chose you and this here boor in the shadows." Aleksander grimaces at the nickname. "Anyway. The story is simple. There were three of us - ambitious magicians. And each of us was looking for a way to increase our powers, to exist in a world where we wouldn't have to fear being killed. A bit like you, Grisha. But... we had different visions. And after Y/N met our Shadow Summoner, she wanted to completely cut herself off from the old plans. She only saw you in her future. And Ulla. And maybe Baghra. Coming back. She needed the recipe for immortality. And Luke found it for her. At first I was shocked. To be completely honest, we never liked you; I still do not. You took our companion away from us, but Luke... Luke was just jealous. Damn jealous. To the point that I thought that one day he would kill either himself, or you, or Y/N, or all of you at once. I was... unfavourable about the creation of the necklace and using your blood. Especially since it... it connected our lives. But not in the way Luke wanted. He thought that by bonding, he would have a special bond with Y/N, but... it didn't work like that. The necklace needed the power of the entire coven. Y/N was supposed to be bonded to you. And I and Luke... I and Luke were her connection to the world. Luke thought the main connection, the main bridge, would go between the three of us and you. But Y/N is a wise beast. She changed the spell so that only she would draw from you and only you from her. So we were just side branches, stabilising the power between you two and drawing only one benefit. Immortality."

"So you..."

"Yes. I'll live as long as you live. As long as Y/N lives to be precise. Comming back to the story: Luke got pissed. He wanted to destroy the necklace, but out of the three of us, Y/N was the most powerful one. So she kicked his ass and ran to you. And then it all went to hell anyway. But Luke… he's a retentive person. He holds a grudge. A lot. He's been chasing her for centuries, sometimes even watching you, so maybe it's a good thing you split up. She managed to hide from him, and I was running away from lands to lands, exploring different countries. But now that he's somehow taken over the covens and hold the power over all the witches… I think he decided it was time to get revenge."

"But we found the Fjerdans symbol in her rooms."

"To throw us off course. Chase after someone who didn't take her and start a war with them while they're busy with her." Aleksander interrupts Ulla and meets Ivan's gaze. "They'll be enraged by our patrols. You need to gather our men and prepare for war."

"What are you going to do? Suddenly you don't care about Grisha anymore?" Zoya cuts in, causing him to clench his fists to keep from sending some of his shadows at her.

"I see you and Alina are having a great time playing war without me. You'll manage. You have Baghra and Ivan to help you. I myself supervised the training of the two of you. You will manage. I'm needed elsewhere."

"You came here with us, or rather you were released from your cell for one purpose. To help us in this war. Do you think we're just going to let you go and look for some lost lover of yours?" His once most loyal soldier approaches him, giving him an angry, intimidating look. Aleksander smirks, gently raising his hand, allowing his shadows to envelop all present.

"It's cute that you think you can even try to stop me."

"My brother has fought enough wars in the name of Grisha. And he will surely do so again. Now, if you'll excuse us, we have business to attend to." Ulla butts in and grabs his hand. She nods to Mijomir and the three of them disappear before anyone can react.

Aleksander remembers these tricks. You used teleportation on him a few times, but he hated this mode of transport. He preferred horseback riding. However, he admitted that it had its advantages.

"A heads-up next time would be nice." He snorts at the wizard, skeptically surveying his surroundings. A forest. The middle of a forest. And a small cabin.

"Maybe next time. Now. If I can't find her, then Luke has closed the connection between us. But he's not strong enough to close the connection between you and her. Have you ever practiced magic, Grisha?"

Aleksander sighs at the wizard's excitement. This is going to be a really long day for him…

You wake up with a huge headache – you literally feel like you've been run over by at least 5 carriages with a full team of 4 horses. And your hands and feet are tied. The only good thing is that your cell feels like a room. A fairly comfortable one. You're even lying on a bed. Which is strange enough in itself.

You expected to wake up in some musty dungeon, tied to a tree by the Fjerdans, or not wake up at all. That's why you're so surprised when you're still breathing, when your heart beats in your chest and your power hums, trapped in your body, effectively blocked by whatever your captor has prepared for you. Or rather, what Luke was going to do now.

You shiver as the door to your chambers opens. He enters with two of his henchmen, watching you carefully. They walk over to you, taking you off the bed and tying you to a chair.

You keep your eyes on the wizard before you, once your friend, who is cautiously scanning the room as if you still pose some kind of threat to him when you were all bound and gagged.

Good. At least he has the decency to still be vigilant around you.

“Leave us. Wait by the door.” He orders them dryly, sitting down in the chair across from you. You glance at the departing wizards, more than aware of how close Luke is stepping to you. "Are you going to behave yourself, or should I leave that gag on you? It's been a long time, I was hoping, for a little conversation, but all I need is for you to listen to me if you can't keep your rage in check."

You roll your eyes at him but don’t struggle as he slowly unties the gag. You spit it out of your mouth, tossing it over the side of your chair.

"Persuasive. Even for you." You scoff, watching him closely. He had changed over the centuries.

His once blond hair was now grey, his skin as shiny and smooth without a trace of a wrinkle as the day when the three of you had created a necklace for you, mixing your blood with Aleksander's.

"Big mouth as usual. I see your Grisha hasn't tempered that sharp tongue of yours. Good. More fun for me."

"I have many more intelligent comments for you. All as repulsive as you are. But first, maybe you'd like to tell me why you're after me and Mijomir?"

"Isn't it obvious? You took something from me. I want it back. Where's your necklace?"

"I gave it to the poor and needy." You mock him, which turns out to be a bad idea in your situation. You hiss in pain as he flicks his wrist, causing every cell in your body to burn with unimaginable pain.

"I'll ask you again. Where. Is. My. Necklace?" He growls in your face, breaking the spell, and grabs you by the neck, not letting you catch your breath after the torture he put you through.

"Yours? I don't remember it being your necklace. It was always meant to be mine. To me and to my... to my Grisha." You speak carefully, not saying Aleksander's name out loud. He growls, tightening his grip on your neck again, staring into your watery eyes as you suffocate under his hand.

"Ah yes. Your shadow man. The Starless Saint. The Darkling…it's probably with him, right? How romantic. You grant yourself immortality only to hand it over to some insignificant Grisha who's a freak of nature."

"Aren't we all?" You gasp, spitting out the words with the last of your air, ready to defend him even in your final moments.

Luke lets go of you and steps away from you to pour himself a drink. As you pant, gasping for air in your aching lungs, you see a sudden movement in the room.

If your hands weren't tied, you'd rub your eyes in disbelief. Beautiful. You were hallucinating and seeing Aleksander.

Maybe it was finally your time; maybe at the moment of your death your mind imagined him here to make things easier for you. Because you know that whatever Luke has planned for you, it won't be pretty and easy.

"I told you. Grisha and witches don't mix. Your Shadow Summoner may be unique among them, but he is not like us, Y/N. We are forces of nature. Endowed with a power that is part of ourselves, which is the structure of our bodies. Not a twisted crossbreed of strange genes."

"I think before I kill him I'll show him how perfectly you and I fit together. What do you think, my little witch? Although no… he doesn't deserve to see you writhing beneath me, naked and at my mercy. That's a sight for me alone."

You stare stupidly at both men, coughing as your lungs burned from the excess air. It was a shitty way to die, to say the least, imagining your ex saying… things like that.

"I will take great pleasure in breaking you. You will forget that any Grisha ever touched you." Luke promises darkly, cupping your cheek in his hand, unaware that an imaginary Aleksander had entered your head, that even in this moment all you could think about was your Shadow Summoner and not what you were about to go through by Luke's hands.

"Hang in there, milaya. I promise we'll get here as fast as we can, I'll break his bones and sacrifice him to you, I'll cut him into a thousand pieces for your enjoyment after he begs to die at our hands." Aleksander promises, pressing tender kisses to the top of your head as tears stream down your face.

I love you. You think, closing your eyes and blocking out another wave of pain that Luke throws at you, this time kicking you in the shin, probably hard enough to break your bone.

"I love you too. Only you. Always you. Just wait for me a little longer, please, Y/N. I'm begging you. Don't give up..."

You don't hear the rest of his pleas. You pass out from the pain, relieved to have these few moments of unconsciousness. At this point, the relief outweighs the fear that you'll never open your eyes again.

Don't kill me for this… but I hope you liked this chapter anyway. 🫣🥰

Any comments/messages/hearts are greatly appreciated! Thank you so much!!! If you want to, let me know what you think 🥰🖤🖤

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[royalty-nobility]

Tsar Peter I, 'Peter the Great', Tsar of Russia (1672-1725), with Minerva

Artist: After Jacopo Amigoni (Italian, c.1682-1752)

Date: After 1730

Medium: Oil on canvas

Collection: National Trust Collections, London, United Kingdom

Description

A full-length portrait of Peter the Great standing beside the goddess Minerva; a drum, cannon and books in the foreground. This is a copy of Amigoni's full length in the throne alcove in the Petrorsky Hall of the Winter Palace, painted in 1730, five years after the Tsar's death, for the Russian ambassador in London, Prince Antioch Kantemir. Variously described as the 'Spirit of Russia' or Minerva.

Peter I, better known as Peter the Great, was the Tsar of all Russia from 1682 and the first Emperor of all Russia from 1721 until his death in 1725. He reigned jointly with his half-brother Ivan V until 1696. From this year, Peter was an absolute monarch, an autocrat who remained the ultimate authority and organized a well-ordered police state.

[chyertsar]

synopsis : a retelling of koschei's russian fable set within its own fantasy universe ( albeit heavily modeled after historical rus' and slavic cosmology ) easily compliant to other universes. the "thrice-ninth country" ( rus', a land of mortals ) and "thrice-tenth country" ( yav, a land of magic ) will refer to an understanding that within this known world there are other countries, kingdoms, planes and realities with gateway portals to each ( primarily, the world tree ). koschei starts his journey as ivan, a slave and warlock born centuries after a holy war forced magical beings into exile. ultimately, he becomes a lich king who leads the uprising of magic and destruction of the orders that banished it to begin with.

arc i. the winter war — focuses more on where ivan ends up after he deserts prince mstislav's winter raid. he could have landed in enemy territory, a neighboring country outside of rus' or within a secluded realm of winter's magic beings. in either case he'll come to meet his vila companion, inna lebedeva.

arc ii. the green oak tree — ivan unearths his magic, finds the means to call on the green oak tree ( a gateway to all the world gardens, including buyan's ), and has been dazhbog's apprentice for a year. he's returned to the realm of man hoping to earn enough gold to free his mother. he'll be posing as a sell sword / chyerti hunter claiming he can get rid of the local "monster" problem when really he's offering these creatures a means of egress back to yav through the green oak.

arc iii. the thrice-eighth country of nav — trying to free his mother does not go as planned and ivan does have to face the punishment for his desertion. he's executed, albeit with a plan to revive himself with inna's help. this arc focuses on the time he spends in nav, the country of death where he'll likely find all sorts of chthonic enities, relics, and knowledge during his search for the water of death.

arc iv. the tower of bones — pookie comes back to life with a vengeance. he casts a spell to become deathless and is now referred to as koschei bessmertny. exiled from yav, he builds a fortress called the tower of bones where he's laying out the foundations for dazhbog's downfall. in these early years, he isn't on the top 10 most wanted list just yet, but is gathering up chyerti support, offering his magic to the desperate for future favors, and settling some scores in rus' as a treat to him personally. all of this kickstarts a new wave of witch hunts in the mortal realm.

arc v. when the dragon swallows the sun — koschei has killed dazhbog and crowned himself the new tsar of life -- officially reaching archmage / dragon lich king status. with chyerti support from both sides of the fence, there's little anyone can do to stop the ascension. however, he wants to undo the wards keeping yav segregated and this will require relics from each of its tsars and tsarinas. bigger focus here is getting these relics and readying himself for the invasion of rus'. this invasion begets the fabled clashes between him and the heroes/saints of the age.

arc vi. the death of koschei the deathless — a couple generations go by, and the old lich is finally ready for compromise and diplomacy. main focus here will be his interactions with mortal leaders who may or may not be more open to sharing his vision and finding concessions between man and magic. problem is, the tsar of death thinks revenge is best served cold. he's launched a war against yav which threatens to destroy everyone and everything. here's where i ask that we dethrone, kill, and/or lock up the lich king before it's too late !!

𓆩♔𓆪   for further context / a default storyline for each of these arcs, enter the cut at your own peril then come give me a kiss. please note this is all just play dough and open for any necessary changes.

there koschei hoards his golden stash — you’ll smell the russian soul, so brash ! and there was i — i drank sweet mead, the green oak by the sea i saw ; the learned cat sat there indeed, and told me tales without a flaw ; one tale i keep — it shines with truth, and now i share it with the world in sooth . . . alexsander pushkin rusland and ludmila

𓆩♔𓆪 PROLOGUE : THE LAST GREEN FLASH 

in a land known as the great steppes, the borders between the thrice-ninth country of rus' ( the mortal realm ) and the thrice-tenth country of yav ( the mystical realm ) were soft as fog. binding these as one were the volkhvs -- archmages, often appointed as hierophants and high priestesses to the old gods from the silent country of prav ( the divine plane ). under their watch, witches and warlocks studied the art of magic to bridge the peace between mortals and magic, and went on to serve as advisors to rulers from both countries. to say that the steppes knew peace for a time would have been a fanciful start to our tale; but ours is a war story, and if we are to tell it truthfully, it should be made clear that there was no peace. not then and not ever.

just as the rusalka strangled the voldnik for swallowing her lakeweed comb, the khans burned down principalities that settled where their horses roamed; volkhvs twisted the silent word to suit the right ear, and too few of the witches had the patience to guide their royal-born lessers from the shadows. the steppes became an open field for discord and betrayal. however, there was no shortage of camaraderie and courage here either. with a little help from their leshy friends, stolen princesses conquered the trials of strange lands to return home; and boyars proudly risked their lives chasing out ogres and invaders, emboldened by the vila guardians who rode alongside them. while it is true that peace was fleeting, morality was measured by the weight of deeds, and the war between good and evil was fought by mortals and magic as a collective.

that all changed after vladimir the great, a rus' prince of kiev, was struck with a dream he could not shake. he saw the principalities of rus' rising to greatness under his order, finally unified by a common creed and enemy. he decried the volkhvs and their old gods as false idols, introducing a new faith in their stead: the faith of the father, which worshipped one true god and venerated his mortal heroes and heroines as saints. the patriarchs, priests of the faith, preached that magic was a source of corruption, the creatures of yav to be devils, the witches heretics, and all these unbelonging in the land the father promised to man.

in only a few short years, the faith caught on en masse and a holy purge was prepared in secret. during the purge, known as the last green flash, academies were sacked, mages were slaughtered, tomes were burned, and boyars were ordered to march into the forests that bordered yav and slay every chyerti devil that they came across.  with the crusade spilling into their unprepared tsardoms, the leaders of yav struggled to come to an agreement on what to do. many wanted the blood repaid, others wanted to broker peace, but dazbhog, the tsar of life, called for his fellow sovereigns not to engage.

yav was a land of plenty. if its people were no longer welcome elsewhere, then they would ward their country off to man before the war threatened what was left of it. an accord was struck; all the tsars and tsarinas offered their chosen relics to fuel the spell that would sever the realms from each other. they kept only four magic gateways hidden within rus’, mitigating man's intrusions while also giving the abandoned chyerti a chance to find their way back to yav.

in the proceeding years, many lost their lives trying to find these gates and so most resigned to remain hidden in the secluded pockets of the human realm. the mages could pass as human within vladimir's new world, but taught their children to be miserly with their use of magic. eventually, both mages and chyerti became a rarity to come by – weakened by the loss of offerings and knowledge. through the generations that followed, stories about the thrice-tenth country and its creatures were taken as little more than rustic fables at best -- or blasphemy at worst.

𓆩♔𓆪 ARC I : THE WINTER WAR

200 years after the last green flash, the tale of koschei the deathless begins as it must: with a boy named ivan, the youngest of three sons, born to a cuman khan and his stolen bride. after khan yuri’s defeat by a rus’ prince, mstislav of chernigov, his wife and sons were sold to a monastery in the southern port of tmutarakan. by the legendary black sea that once neighbored dazhbog's isle, ivan was born and raised as a koshey (slave). he was a child riddled with questions, always difficult to answer, but the strangest of these was why no one else believed him when he said the sun wore a green crown at daybreak. his mother danika suspected her youngest had inherited what other magebloods called the gift of sight.  this she taught him to regard as curse and had him promise never to speak of the green flash or seek out other slips magic again — for all their sakes. 

but it was never in ivan's nature to be obedient. when mstislav’s captains came to conscript the healthiest koshey boys from the monastery, he resisted. for ten days, they kept him in a cell with nothing but a bucket of water until the threat of death finally saw him pledge fealty and concede to the shaving of his head. upon ivan’s release, his brothers came to his aid:  ruslan, the eldest, thereafter came to call him koschei — walking bones, a slave to his own pride — while the second son, andrei, tried to keep peace between them, believing that if they stuck the war through together, t he prince might make them freeman for their good service.

ill-equipped and expendable, the koshey vanguard was truly never meant to make it back alive. to the army, they were bait for exposing enemies and scouts for half-frozen rivers. as they marched north, ivan sensed they were entering chyerti territory and was hopeful the creatures might lend him and his brothers aid or a means to escape. ruslan forbade any engagement, fearing execution for heresy, but in a moment of stubbornness and weakness, he defied him. a winter demon had come promising him refuge and food for an offering equal to what was taken. hunger won out. the storm came fast and without mercy. in the aftermath, ivan found ruslan frozen to death, shielding andrei, who forgave ivan days before succumbing to frostbite. shattered, ashamed, and unwilling to die for the prince’s nightmare of a campaign, ivan took his chances and deserted the war.

𓆩♔𓆪 ARC II : THE GREEN OAK TREE

in the wilds, ivan eventually came upon a wolf who revealed herself to be a vila named nahina lebedeva -- or inna, as she preferred. guiding him through hidden pockets of chyerti communities, inna agreed to take ivan on as her vilanik ( a chosen hero or blood-brother) if he could complete three impossible tasks: steal a firebird from its gilded cage, obtain an enchanted mare from baba yaga’s flock, and find her a gate to the thrice tenth kingdom of yav. against all odds, ivan completed the first two tasks, but the final seemed impossible -- until he stopped believing it was. with baba yaga’s help, the warlock discovered he could summon one to him. the gate appeared to him as a green oak tree, a portal to all the world gardens.

together, he and inna passed through the gate and entered the garden of buyan, sanctuary of the tsar of life. by the terms of his accord, dazhbog offered them refuge, but ivan, still haunted by the deaths of his brothers and the captivity of his mother, felt he could not stay in yav without freeing her first. dazhbog could not offer the gold he needed to pay her ransom — the wards rendered yav’s treasures worthless in the mortal world — but what he could offer was knowledge from buyan’s alatyr stone – an ancient rock inscribed with primordial spells and prophecies. in return, ivan was charged with a sacred task: to be the gatekeeper of the green oak and grant passage to any lost chyerti he encountered in the land of mortals. after a year under dazhbog’s apprenticeship, ivan returns to rus’, accompanied by inna, who felt honor-bound to follow her vilanik on his path. 

  note : he will start introducing inna as his sister— but more often than not, the vila remains in a wolf or swan form to avoid suspicion. they’ll travel through places far from mstislav's reach, where few would recognize him as a deserter.

𓆩♔𓆪 ARC III: THE THRICE-EIGHTH COUNTRY

after years spent traversing the fringes of rus’, ivan and inna amassed enough gold to pay his mother’s ransom. disguised as a monk, ivan returned to tmutarakan, but the reunion with danika was as fraught as he feared. having drawn too much attention, ivan is brought to prince mstislav and finds his magic is rended incapacitated by his native monastery’s church bells. rather than execute the heretical deserter, mstislav offers him a bargain: if ivan could deliver him yelena the fair, he and his mother would be granted freedom. if he failed, danika would bear punishment in his stead.

ivan journeyed north and found yelena beset by suitors and poised to be married off to a lord twice her age. rather than resort to force, ivan preyed on her desperation for an escape. he offered to journey with her to the coast where she might find passage to a new life. of course, yelena was skeptical— until inna revealed herself, vouching for ivan. she confessed they were both beings of magic, seeking a new life for themselves and that tmutarakan, once the closest mortal port to buyan, could still be a path to the elusive isle. perhaps, it could have something more to offer the princess too.

as they traveled, ivan wrestled with the growing guilt of his deception and when they neared the city, he resolved not to betray yelena. he and inna came up with a plan to free them all of the mess, but yelena overheard only enough to no longer trust ivan’s explanations and resolved on fleeing at the first opportunity. with a deadline at hand and no bride to present, ivan returned to tmutarakan alone and accepted his punishment. mstislav’s men bound him to a tree, loosed their arrows, and left his body for the wolves.

in death, ivan’s soul was ferried by the pale rider into the thrice-eighth country of nav, domain of the tsar of death and final resting place to dead chyerti and other gray souls. in the three days ivan spends laboring in nav, he is secretly searching for the river/fount of the water of death. he also needs to find a means of getting it to inna so she can complete the revival spell before it’s too late. in the shadows of nav, he’d have also encountered relics and forbidden knowledge ( i.e., tomes of necromancy and spells that speak of dominion over death -- so all you chthonic freaks please have at him here ! )

𓆩♔𓆪 ARC IV: THE TOWER OF BONES

with the sacred waters of life and death in hand, inna called her vilanik back from nav, but such blessings are never freely given. a life for a life : so was the law between brothers, and their balance would not bend. ivan survived mstislav’s cruelty once more, but yelena had been found by his men and chose death over the marriage that awaited her. when ivan awoke, it was to the bitter knowing that every time he clawed away from the grave, someone he loved was dragged into it, and dazhbog’s own quiet consent to yelena’s trade was a wound he could never forgive.

tired of the cycle of loss and life, ivan sought a mean to remove himself from it by turning toward the shadows he’d glimpsed on his journey between worlds. with blood magic of his own making, he twisted yaga’s liminal craft, dazhbog’s healing, and death’s soul-extractions into an unspeakable spell. it made ivan small enough to be kept inside the eye of a needle, inside an egg, inside a black space, buried deep beneath the roots of memory. from that black space arose koschei the deathless – a lich wizard, and the harbinger of magic’s uprising.

when dazhbog learned of what he’d become, he banished koschei from calling on the green oak and all other the gates between rus’ and yav. but it mattered little. koschei had already planted seeds across both worlds and now had nothing but time to see them all sowed. in rus’, he raised the tower of bones — a gateway fortress of his own that could vanish between realms or appear wherever it was needed — and from its halls, he made dealings with the unfortunate and called the abandoned chyerti to his side. those forgotten by yav’s rulers, left to rot in the shadows of man’s fear, found in koschei not only the promise of justice but of a prodigal return to the land of plenty.

in these early years of deathlessness, koschei moves in silence and subterfuge. yet to earn his infamy, he wears many faces and offers many favors to gather what he needs for a seamless coup against dazhbog. for all his caution however, he does not resist going after the ones who directly harmed him in his mortal life. he kills mstislav and curses chernigov with a sleeping spell. the patriarchs are calling it a sign that devilry is afoot and the princes launch a hunt for potential witches/heretics. as for inna, she becomes disillusioned with her vilanik and their paths diverge.

𓆩♔𓆪 ARC V:   WHEN THE DRAGON SWALLOWS THE SUN

koschei learns of dazhbog’s one weakness: bound by his ancient pact with death, the tsar of life was required to journey each winter out of yav and into nav. koschei traced the path and struck. dazhbog fell, the green oak no longer barred him, and koschei returned to buyan, crowning himself as the new tsar of life. chyerti from both sides of the border supported his claim. after all, many owed their lives to the gatekeeper he once was — and some owed the lich wizard from the tower far more than that. 

he began the final phase of his long campaign: to unseal the border between the thrice-ninth and thrice-tenth countries and forge a world where magic no longer hid in shadows or fled at the sound of church bells. to undo dazhbog’s spell, he needed the sacred relics guarded by each tsardom. through persuasion, betrayal, and bloodshed, he claims them all and unites the forces of yav under his red banner. but he doesn't stop there. his imperial reach spreads into the steppes where his father’s people, the cumans, see him as their prophesied dragon khan and are more than happy to help bring the principalities down for their own reasons.

at the height of his strength, the brunt of his army finally invades rus’, determined to make the steppes bend its knee to his vision either through capitulation or force. many compare his war to vladimir’s holy purge, but koschei disagrees. he does not wish to destroy mankind, only to loosen the church’s grip and weed out what refuses to change. the surviving principalities and patriarchs scramble to resist, and where their holy armies falter, they pray for saints, for legends, for miracles. and so begins the great clash between koschei and the heroes of the age, none of whom have uncovered the secret of his death, but enchanted blades and clever tricks might allow them to wound him long enough to break his momentum — for a season, a year, maybe even a decade. 

𓆩♔𓆪 ARC VI: THE DEATH OF KOSCHEI THE DEATHLESS

a century or two passes, and new generations of mortals, witches, and chyerti offer some progress in forming a unity, but the resistance drags on and koschei remains its central target. wearied of the war, he comes to see the truth: a world cannot be remade by force and fear alone. its in this shift that inna answers her vilanik’s call and returns to buyan, not to help him, but to help the war reach its end. by her advisement he begins to seek compromise — not surrender, but a slower path to the world he envisioned. he calls the mortal leaders to his table, even those beyond steppes, but few trust the outstretched hand that often clenched into a burning fist.

then comes the reckoning. the tsar of death had not forgotten dazhbog’s murder, nor forgiven koschei’s monsterous spell. from nav he rises, launching an assault on yav while koschei’s strength and allegiances wane.  the tale moves toward its end, towards its vasilisas, ivans, marya morevnas and what must come next. peace between the thrice-ninth and thrice tenth kingdoms will never be found within the unending lifetime of a deathless ruler. for the world to progress, koschei must fall either by choice, his definitive death, or a binding that lasts the ages it takes for old wounds to finally breathe and heal.

𓆩♔𓆪 modern alt. if sealed away for centuries, maybe his vision does come to fruition. maybe it was his legend that became the common creed and enemy unifying man and magic. maybe one day he'll emerge and forget the throne. maybe tired at last, he will abide the present order and live more quietly within it. maybe he'll vanish to some forgotten corner of the earth — retiring in an elusive tower of ghosts, hoping in time the tsar of death will forget him like the mortals and chyerti have. or maybe nothing changes. maybe someone opens a door to a basement and the serpent rises to eat its tale all over again.

[the-last-tsar]

Empresses Consorts of the Romanov Family {03/16}: Maria Ilyinichna Miloslavskaya.

"Maria Ilyinichna was a younger daughter of the noble Ilya Danilovich Miloslavsky and Ekaterina Fedorovna Miloslavskaya. In 1647, tsar Alexis I of Russia reached the age required for marriage. The tsar was to choose his bride from a bride-show of hundreds of daughters of the nobility, who were summoned to the imperial court for selection. Maria, who was reportedly a beauty, was selected as the tsar's second choice (he had initially chosen Euphemia Fedorovna Vsevolozhskaya, but she was disqualified on charges of epilepsy). The wedding was conducted on 16 January 1648 in Moscow and is described as a happy one; the couple had 13 children, including Tsar Feodor III, regent Sophia and Tsar Ivan V. Tsaritsa Maria fulfilled her expected role both in regard to charity and religion, despite the fact that russian noblewomen were expected to live their lives in seclusion, with as little contact with men as possible. Maria died after having given birth to Eudoxia in 1669. When she died, it was first believed that her widower would never remarry."

Informations from Wikipedia

(movie: Sophia - 2016)

[xviistrings]

i don't have a problem with the trans arc itself (i'm trans btw happy pride month tua fandom) but why is viktor..... named VIKTOR?

the name vanya is a reference to the tsar bomba, the most powerful nuclear weapon ever made. it had two code names: vanya and ivan.

i get that they were just trying to get another v name but....... ughhhh........... please it wouldve been so cool to keep the reference going. he's ivan in my heart. i'm calling him viktor but i really mean ivan

[jeweled-blue-eyes]

"Double Throne of Ivan V and Peter I" Tsardom of Russia, 1682 - 1684.

Gilded silver throne in Baroque style was executed in Kremlin Workshops in 80-s of the XVIIth century for two coregent brothers – Ivan Alekseevich and Peter Alekseevich. The throne's double construction associates with an architectural edifice. The throne's back houses a secret hiding-place for mentors of the young tsars who were too small for taking decisions in high politics. Necessary advice was given through a special window in the throne's back covered with red velvet.

[loiladadiani]

👑The Romanov Dynasty

The Grand Duchy of Moscow under Prince Ivan III was the first unified state on Russian territory. With him began the Rurikid Dynasty (the Rurikid had been around for a long time along hoards of tartars).

The Rurikid ruled from the 1400s until the 1600s. Ivan III can be considered the founder of Russia. While the Rurikid were in power, the Romanovs were boyars (nobles) in their courts. When the Ruriks became extinct, the Romanovs took over. The "Zemsky Sorbor" (a rudimentary parliament) elected Mikhail Feodorovich as the first Romanov Tzar.

The direct male line of the Romanovs ended with Elizabeth of Russia, who was childless. Her nephew Peter III, a member of the House of Holstein-Gottorp (a cadet branch of the German House of Oldenburg that reigned in Denmark), ascended to the throne and adopted his Romanov mother’s house name. Descendants after Elizabeth are sometimes referred to as "Holstein-Gottorp-Romanov."

The above is a gross oversimplification of a very complex course of events.

Highlights about each Romanov Tsar/Tsarina:

👑Mikhail Feodorovich (1613 - 1645): First Romanov Tsar

👑Alexei Mikhailovich (1645 - 1676): Encouraged trade and cooperation with Europe. Father of Peter the Great

👑Feodor III (1676 - 1682): Had very poor health and spent most of his reign in bed

👑Peter I and 👑 Ivan V (1689 - 1785): It was complicated. The two of them were Tsars under the regency of their older sister Sophia.

👑Peter I (1689-1725): Reformed Russia's politics, government, and culture. Made Russia a military power.

👑Catherine I (1725-1727): At the time of Peter the Great's death, the mechanism for succession consisted of the Tsar selecting his successor, but Peter did not elect one before dying. His wife became the Tsarina, but others governed through her.

👑Peter II (1727-1730): Peter's grandson; ascended the throne at 11 and died at 14. The "Privy Council" or "Soviet" ruled through him.

👑Anna Ioannovna (1730-1740): Daughter of Peter's half-brother Ivan. The Privy Council invited her to rule (wanting her to be a puppet), but she disbanded them and ruled herself successfully.

👑Ivan VI (1740-1741): One-year-old son of Ana's niece. She left the throne to him, expecting his mother to govern. Elizabeth, daughter of Peter the Great, deposed him (and his mother.)

👑Elizabeth Petrovna (1741-1761): Last Russian on the Russian throne; her twenty-year reign was successful.

👑Peter III (1761-1762): Grandson of Peter the Great and next in line for the throne after Elizabeth. Ruled for only half a year before being deposed by his wife, Catherine. He was murdered soon after the coup d’etat.

👑Catherine the Great (1762-1796):  Her accomplishment went from the Empire’s territorial expansion to political development to the proliferation of sciences. However, the Empire had an enormous external debt by the end of her reign.

👑Paul I (1796-1801): Paul, the son of Catherine the Great and Peter III, became Emperor at 42 after the death of his mother. He started a lot of major military and political reforms. Paul was murdered in a coup d'etat. Paul decreed house laws for the Romanovs (the Pauline laws) – among the strictest in Europe – which established semi-Salic primogeniture and required Orthodox faith for the monarch and dynasts

👑Alexander I (1801-1825): During his reign, Russia defeated Napoleon's forces (which got as far as Moscow in their attempt to conquer Russia.) There was also great development in culture and arts.

👑Nicholas I (1825-1855): Paul I’s third son, younger brother of Alexander. Started railroad construction in Russia, boosting industrialization. Codified Russian laws and reformed finances.

👑Alexander II (1855-1881): His major reforms included the peasant emancipation of 1861, military reform, and the introduction of new types of self-governing village societies and more. Unfortunately, he fell victim to a terrorist after five attempts.

👑Alexander III (1881-1894): Russia didn’t enter any wars in his time. His domestic policy was conservative. He amended the Pauline laws. The economy flourished. But the revolution was brewing below the surface.

👑Nicholas II (1894-1917): His policies were unsuccessful. Established the first official Duma in 1905, but it was too little too late. With the advent of WWI, the Russian Empire ceased to exist. He abdicated. (gcl)

Sources:

Panov, A., Delaroche, P., & Abramuchkin, Y. (2021, July 31). The Complete List of Russian Tsars, Emperors, and Presidents. Russia Beyond. Retrieved June 20, 2023, from https://www.rbth.com/history/334065-complete-list-of-russian-tsars-emperors-rulers-presidents

[gulnarsultan]

Quick question who was Peter the great?

Was Tsar of all Russia from 1682, and the first Emperor of all Russia, known as Peter the Great, from 1721 until his death in 1725. He reigned jointly with his half-brother Ivan V until 1696. From this year, Peter was an absolute monarch, an autocrat who remained the ultimate authority and organized a well-ordered police state.

[palecleverdoll]

Wives and Daughters of Russian Tsars: Ages at First Marriage

I have only included women whose birth dates and dates of marriage are known within at least 1-2 years, therefore, this is not a comprehensive list. This data set ends with the daughters of Peter I; the start of Imperial Russia.

Anastasia Romanova, wife of Ivan IV; age 17 when she married Ivan in 1547 CE

Maria Temryukovna, wife of Ivan IV; age 16 when she married Ivan in 1561 CE

Maria Skuratova-Belskaya, wife of Boris Godunov; age 18 when she married Boris in 1570 CE

Marfa Sobakina, wife of Ivan IV; age 19 when she married Ivan in 1571 CE

Anna Koltovskaya, wife of Ivan IV; age 20 when she married Ivan in 1572 CE

Maria Nagaya, wife of Ivan IV; age 28 when she married Ivan in 1581 CE

Irina Godunova, wife of Feodor I; age 23 when she married Feodor in 1580 CE

Yelena Sheremeteva, wife of Ivan Ivanovich; age 28 when she married Ivan in 1581 CE

Marina Mniszech, wife of False Dmitry I;  age 17 when she married Dmitry in 1605 CE

Maria Dolgorukova, wife of Michael I; age 23 when she married Michael in 1624 CE

Eudoxia Streshneva, wife of Michael I; age 18 when she married Michael in 1626 CE

Maria Miloslavskaya, wife of Alexis; age 24 when she married Alexis in 1648 CE

Natalya Naryshkina, wife of Alexis I; age 20 when she married Alexis in 1651 CE

Agafya Grushetskaya, wife of Feodor III; age 17 when she married Feodor in 1680 CE

Marfa Apraksina, wife of Feodor III; age 18 when she married Feodor in 1682 CE

Praskovia Saltykova, wife of Ivan V; age 20 when she married Ivan in 1684 CE

Eudoxia Lopukhina, wife of Peter I; age 20 when she married Peter in 1689 CE

Catherine I of Russia, wife of Peter I; age 18 when she married Johan Cruse in 1702 CE

Anna of Russia, daughter of Ivan V; age 17 when she married Frederick William Duke of Courland and Semigallia in 1710 CE

Charlotte Christine of Brunswick-Wolfenbuttel; age 17 when she married Alexei Petrovich in 1711 CE

Catherine Ivanovna, daughter of Ivan V; age 25 when she married Karl Leopold, Duke of Mecklenburg-Schwerin, in 1716 CE

Anna Petrovna, daughter of Peter I; age 17 when she married Charles Frederick I, Duke of Holstein-Gottorp, in 1725 CE

The average age at first marriage was 18 years old.

[tiny-librarian]

Royal Birthdays for today, September 6th:

Ivan V, Tsar of Russia, 1666

Peter II, King of Yugoslavia, 1923

Claus von Amsberg, Prince Consort of the Netherlands, 1926

Hisahito, Japanese Prince, 2006

[historyistold]

English below__

תיראו מופתעים:

פוטין זכה ב״בחירות״ לנשיאות רוסיה ברוב של 87%. המשמעות: אם יכהן עד 2030 יעקוף את סטלין ויהפוך למנהיג שמכהן הכי הרבה זמן בראשות המדינה הרוסית מאז אלכסיי הראשון, שכיהן במשך שלושה עשורים כצאר (1645–1676).

כבר כעת פוטין מכהן בראשות המדינה הכי הרבה בתפקיד מאז סטלין, ששלט 29 שנים.

את מי נשאר לפוטין לעקוף:

פיוטר הראשון ״הגדול״ כיהן במשך 42 שנים (14 מהם ביחד עם איוואן החמישי).

איוואן הרביעי ״האיום״ שלט במשך 39 שנים כצאר (1547־1584).

יקטרינה השנייה ״הגדולה״ שלטה ביד רמה במשך 34 שנים (1762—1796).

מיכאיל הראשון כיהן 32 שנים כצאר בשנים 1613־1645.

אלכסיי הראשון היה צאר במשך כשלושה עשורים וקצת מיולי 1645 עד ינואר 1676.

סטלין (1924–1953) וניקולאי הראשון (1825–1855) כיהנו במשך 29 שנים.

עד להירצחו, הקיסר אלכסנדר השני שלט במשך 26 שנים (1855–1881).

השנה פוטין כבר עקף את אלכסנדר הראשון ששלט במשך 24 שנים (1801־1825).

__

Look surprised…

Putin won the Presidential "election" with a majority of 87%. The meaning: if he serves until 2030, he will overtake Stalin and become the longest-serving leader of the Russian state since Alexei I, who served for three decades as tsar (1645-1676).

Putin is already the longest serving Russian leader since Stalin, who ruled for 29 years.

Who is left for Putin to overtake:

Peter I "The Great" reigned for 42 years (14 of them together with Ivan V).

Ivan IV "The Terrible" ruled for 39 years as Tsar (1547-1584).

Catherine II "The Great" ruled with a firm hand for 34 years (1762-1796).

Mikhail I served as Czar of All Russia for 32 years in the years 1613-1645.

Alexey I was Czar for about three decades from July 1645 to January 1676.

Stalin (1924–1953) and Nicholas I (1825–1855) served as leaders for 29 years.

Until his assassination, Emperor Alexander II ruled for 26 years (1855–1881).

This year Putin has already overtaken Alexander I who ruled for 24 years (1801-1825).

[venicepearl]

Maria Ilyinichna Miloslavskaya (1 April 1624 – 18 August 1669) was a Russian tsaritsa as the first spouse of tsar Alexis of Russia. She was the mother of tsar Feodor III of Russia, tsar Ivan V of Russia, and the princess regent Sophia Alekseyevna.

[royalty-nobility]

Portrait of Peter I of Russia

Artist: Godfried Schalcken (Dutch, 1643–1706

Date: 1703–1706

Medium: Oil on canvas

Collection: State Historical Museum, Moscow. Russia

Peter the Great

Peter I was Tsar of all Russia from 1682, and the first Emperor of all Russia, known as Peter the Great from 1721 until his death in 1725. He reigned jointly with his half-brother Ivan V until 1696. From this year, Peter was an absolute monarch, an autocrat who remained the ultimate authority and organized a well-ordered police state.

[best-romanov-monarch]

Honourable electorate (well, those of you who are still with us), you simply MUST see this

We are simply THRILLED to have someone to argue with, now that this election is over.

25.Pyotr III. - *rings the bell behind OP's back* SHAME! Look, noone is going to argue that he was some misunderstood genius (though he WAS misunderstood in some regards, we suppose), and his one L was pretty significant, but to argue he was worse than, say, Anna Ivanovna just based on it?! For shame! IN THIS POLL: Got eliminated in the first round (big L), where he lost to Pavel I. (even bigger L). In the Worst Romanov poll, he was deemed much worse than Alexander I., but absolutely not as bad as Nikolai I., so. Overall not THE worst obviously, but one of the least esteemed members of this bracket certainly.

24.Pyotr II. - ...okay, that is just. Unfair. This guy was literally excluded from this bracket because HE WAS A FUCKING MINOR. He died at 14. You ghouls.

23.Nikolai II. - This one, though, is completely fair. His record was indeed just as terrible as OP claims, noone's gonna argue with that. IN THIS POLL: Well, except for our esteemed electorate, we suppose! He at least won in the first round over Mikhail I., so that's something. Of course the one who defeated him was Alexei I., and we are still unsure why. We suppose Alexei I. was indeed less of an unmitigated disaster than Nikolai II., low bars and all.

22.Nikolai I. - A bit unfair to place him under Anna Ivanovna mostly based on OP's misunderstanding of the Crimean War, but very well. Our knowledge of his domestic policy is somewhat limited, but what little we do know is that he certainly HELP matters in any way. IN THIS POLL: Was unequivocably named the second worst Romanov tsar after Alexander III.

21.Fyodor I. - "Obligatory insane one" well fuck you too sir??? That one's also unfair. The guy didn't really rule, like he wasn't even capable of it. Not a Romanov, so not in this poll, though we suppose one can ascertain what our electorate would think of him from the position of Ivan V. in this bracket.

20.Ivan VI. - Just like Pyotr II., this one was excused for being a fucking minor.

19.Konstantin Pavlovich - Not in this bracket, didn't rule, case closed.

18.Fyodor II. - Would probably be excused from the regular bracket, as well as in the admin's eyes, on account of being a minor. IN THIS POLL: Was mentioned in passing in the True Heir Of The Rurikids bonus poll, where his dad, and he by extension, would've won had it not been for those meddling Poles!

17.The Totally Real Dimitry I. - I'll be honest, I don't have much faith in this guy's ruling capabilities. His reign amounted to worming himself into the good graces of those damn Poles by making a bunch of promises he couldn't keep, then getting shanked when that fact came to light. He probably wouldn't even get to Moscow had it not been for Boris Godunov's untimely death. This guy is the ultimate proof that sometimes, not even luck can often compensate for raging incompetence. IN THIS POLL: Ranked after Boris Godunov and above Vasily Shuysky AND patriarch Filaret in the True Heir of Rurikids bonus poll. Make of that what you will.

16.Vasily IV. - We have absolutely nothing to add to the OP's assessment, other than sheer bafflement at the fact that he's not even lower. IN THIS POLL: Another True Heir of Rurikids candidate - and definitely the worst ranking one (together with patriarch Filaret, which is frankly horrific patriarch Filaret slander).

15.Ekaterina I. - Look, we're not saying she was a GOOD ruler, we just implore you to give the woman a break. When she ascended the throne, she had 18 years of marriage to Pyotr I. behind her. Of course she didn't do shit, she must've been so tired at that point! IN THIS POLL: Managed to beat Ivan V., only to then lose (after a rematch) to Alexander II., our eventual winner. Again, make of that what you will.

14.Ivan V. - See my opinion on Fyodor I. This guy arguably shouldn't even count. IN THIS POLL: Though it's true Ekaterina I. beat him in the first round of Best Romanov, which qualified him for the Worst Romanov. He beat his brother there, too, so in the esteem of this electorate, he seems to be pretty low.

13.Pavel I. - Again, OP was supremely unfair to this... Unique political thinker. He might not have gotten to put that many of his ideas in praxis, but he did have them; boy, did this guy EVER have ideas. IN THIS POLL: This electorate was much more capable of appreciating this super special snowflake of a monarch; he beat not only Pyotr III., but Sophia Alexeievna as well, which is a pretty good result! He was eventually unable to defeat his mother, but that's a feat that only one Romanov in this bracket achieved, so.

12.Alexander III. - OP really does not give this guy enough credit for laying the groundwork for the Russian Revolution. And the fact that it was ultimately Nikolai II. whose sheer incompetence caused it is no excuse, considering it was Alexander who ensured that Nikolai's education was so lacking. IN THIS POLL: The unquestionable winner of the Worst Romanov Monarch title, so. This electorate does not seem especially fond of him, needless to say.

11.Fyodor III. - A decent ruler, all things considered, but loses some points for being ultimately unable to prevent horrific factional warfare on his court from festering and ultimately erupting right after his death. IN THIS POLL: Another one with fairly ambiguous results; in the Best Romanov, he was knocked out in the first round by the eventual winner Alexander II., while in the Worst Romanov, he was proclaimed better than Ivan V., a literal puppet ruler.

10.Boris I. Godunov - A bit of a mixed bag, really; seemed to have been highly competent, but... The cementing of serfdom tho. That's kind of a black spot on his entire resume, innit? His reign was over not a good time for most Russians, but admittedly that wasn't all his fault. IN THIS POLL: As we mentioned when we talked about his son, he would've won the True Heir Of Rurikids if it wasn't for THE GODDAMN POLES.

9.Alexei I. - Funnily enough, his alleged passivity is a myth according to some? In fact, he had quite the temper, comparable to his youngest son, at least by some accounts. As for his ability to identify talent, which OP mentions... *softly* No. Admittedly, he also had competent advisors, but c'mon, this dude promoted old Morozov AND Nikon the Drama Queen. And of course OP doesn't mention the fact that he was a reactionary even by the standards of 17th century Russia, so. IN THIS POLL: Despite all of this, he was surprisingly successful on this poll. He pummelled Alexander III., no surprises there, but also won over the baby blue eyes of Nikolai II., before being rightfully eliminated by Alexander II.

8.Anna Ivanovna - Is way, way too high on this. To be fair, the way she come to full power was pretty badass, not gonna lie, but what she did with that power... Honestly all the good things about her reign could be attributed to people like Osterman, and if we give her credit for promoting him - well, she promoted fucking Biron even more, so there. Please, OP, stop letting the tsars off the hook for having shitty favourites, like just because they were favourites, that doesn't mean they HAD to be incompetent! Even Mikhail I. and Elizaveta Petrovna knew how to pick people to share power with, so what is your excuse for Anna?! IN THIS POLL: Won the elimination round against Nikolai I., then wasn't allowed in the round anyway, because the race was *this* close. Which honestly tells you all you need to know about the gal.

7.Mikhail I. - I mean... On paper, he certainly looks like a hypercompetent ruler, untill you realize that the stabilization after the Smuta was mostly the work of his dad. He deserves the credit for getting out of Filaret's way, at least, so. IN THIS POLL: He was bested by Nikolai II. on the Best Monarch, but according to Worst Monarch, managed to be not quite as terrible as Alexander III. Overall not a great result, but then, this is the electorate that snubbed good old Filaret, TWICE (on the True Heir Of Rurikids and Best Favourite bonus polls).

6.Ivan IV. - He's not in here, but by God I want to know where he'd end up. I mean, consolidation of the country and multiple fabulous military victories are awesome, but I myself would put him at the bottom just for Novgorod and the overall Stalin vibes he gives me. Giving me Stalin vibes in the 16th century is the worst crime of all. That said, I'll admit, he's a fairly controversial figure, so I wouldn't entirely begrudge OP for placing him... Well, pretty much anywhere in that ranking, really.

5.Elizaveta Petrovna - Look, I love her, can't say she was a BAD ruler per se... She certainly had a good nose on favourites and did show baseline competence. But she also had a tendency to spend tons of money on stupid shit and overall didn't do anything that amazing (other than remain on the throne for 20 years as an 18th century empress, which is admittedly impressive), so. IN THIS POLL: Pretty much trounced Alexander I., which is nothing to scoff at, but alas, then came the second round and Ekaterina II., a.k.a. the woman she had always been compared to, unfavourably. The poor gal didn't stand a chance.

4.Alexander I. - I mean the fucking Holy Alliance was pretty much his idea and we can attribute Napoleon's defeat more to his generals than him... But look, we can't stay mad at this dude. He was a wonderful little chaos gremlin, plus, he seems to have been more skilled at diplomacy than people give him credit for. IN THIS POLL: As mentioned above, this electorate has been pretty clear on whether they like him better than Elizaveta Petrovna, so. He was deemed to be less terrible than Pyotr III. at least, so that's something?

3.Alexander II. - Look, he's my favourite, but I'll admit, his military record is not great and even as reformer, he was only progressive by the standards of 19th century tsars, so. Fair. But I will say Ekaterina II. should still place lower than him. IN THIS POLL: Pulled out a narrow victory over Ekaterina II. and was proclaimed the Best Romanov Monarch.

2.Ekaterina II. - Overrated. As. Fuck. I mean to be fair her military record is pretty great, being good at imperialism means you are at least good at something, and she was definitely a competent administrator... But an enlightened ruler she was not and I wish people stopped calling her that. Rating her above Alexander II. is pretty preposterous. IN THIS POLL: Came in close second after Alexander II., so nothing to scoff at!

1.Pyotr I. - Yeeeaaah. I mean this guy was personally responsible for huge military victories, legal, structural, cultural etc. transformation of the Russian Empire, plus he worked with some of the greatest minds of late 17th century Russia... All the while being an absolute maniac in both good and bad sense of the word. And unlike Ivan the Terrible, he wasn't responsible for TOO many atrocities, so. His place at the top is pretty justified in my opinion. IN THIS POLL: Could've scored pretty high, but alas, in the first round, he was pitted against Ekaterina II. and our electorate just likes their toxic girlbosses too much to let him win that match.

[avilionea]

V: RE: VASILISA && IVAN

IV. IVAN AND THE BEGINNINGS OF CURSES AND BLESSINGS

In a small village beyond the field of the farthest and oldest field lived a father. This father was the third son of a third son. In his time he sire two strong sons. A third, who was not so strong, was born during the longest night of the coldest winter. So he was called Ivan after a grandsire who had been born under similar circumstances six generations prior.

'it is a blessing!' his father said 'He will be a lucky boy and grow into a strong and healthy man, like the Ivan before him!"

"It is a curse!" said his mother " He is unlucky! He will know cold and sorrow for the beginning of his days. What greatness has your Ivan brought your family that we sit in this hut at the end of this field?"

His parents rattled and barked until it was firmly decided that the little boy should be both lucky and unlucky; both blessed and cursed. Thus, he was called Ivan. He would have to grow up to see what he truly would become.

But, as he grew, Ivan was simply a dumb bell.

In the early spring his brothers gave him a flute made of reeds from the river. he was told to play so he would not get forgotten amid the cows that were being led down over the field to the river to drink. If they could hear him, then, they reasoned, he was not caught under foot.

Ivan walked amid the cows and played until the notes turned sweet. He stopped at the river and pointed to the water. Rubies! Sapphires! Diamonds! He called for his brothers to look at the water and the great treasure that rested beneath the ripples. Ivan cautioned them not to touch these treasures. They must have belonged to one of the Great Tsars.

His father had told him all about the Tsars of the Known. There was the Sea Tsar and his twelve Tsarevnas of the Elements. There was the Tsarita of the hearth and good fortune. Everything had a Tsar that was that is. if it could be thought of then a Tsar presided over it.

His middle brother came at once. Riches! in their river! He did not see the precious stones that Ivan claimed, no matter how hard he tried. They bickered and they talked and near fought about the supposed jewels of the river until the eldest of them came running. He was shouting not to touch the river and to save the cows.

"A horse has died upstream. He is decomposing in the water. The Tsar of Death has been here if our Ivan has seen jewels. The river is poisoned."

The cows were turned away and the horse was cut to pieces and removed from the river. it was buried in a high dry place with a mound of apples placed atop it to appease the Tsar of Death. If the apples rotted, then no other animal that lived amid the fields and utilized the river would die that day.

In early summer at the time of sowing seeds there had been a drought. It made the tilling and the planting strenuous. The father lamented that the drought would kill the seeds that were planted. Ivan pointed towards the sky. He saw in the massive blue of the clear sky a large black dragon.

He pointed excitedly and called for his brothers. If there was a dragon, then there was fire in its belly. If there was fire then there would be smoke. If there was smoke then the Tsar of the Air could conjure some clouds and then some rain. His brothers groaned. They did not see a dragon. They laughed and they raved, but Ivan proclaimed he saw the dragon just above them. Did they not see it circling?

Again they laughed. Ivan's dragon they cried! What smoke covered the sky! what fire in a clear sky! What nonsense! Ivan saw the dragon begin to circle back. It had heard the brother's doubt. it had heard the taunts. Ivan reached for his brothers' hands and began to try to pull them from the field. He pulled and he struggled and moved them just enough that the white hot flame struck down to the earth and missed them by an inch. it cracked and roared. 'Lightning!' called the eldest brother. "There are clouds! dozens of them!' screamed the middle brother.

A torrential rain began to poor. They all hurried back to hut where they told their father of the lightning and Ivan's tales of a great black dragon. it was Ivan's mother who spoke.

"The Tsar of Life has passed through here. He has borrowed space from the Tsar of Air and blessed our Ivan."

"Our sons were nearly taken by the Tsar of Death. " Cried the father.

"But Ivan saw the lightning." Said the eldest son. "he saw it as dragon's fire."

So it was decided to send Ivan out into the rain. He was to go to the field. His mother gave him a loaf of bread and a small pot of honey. She bade him leave it in the field where the lightning had struck. if it was the Tsar of Life, then he should be welcomed to pass through.

Ivan wandered through the rain, but saw a man in the field. he was tall and somber. He stood where the lightning had struck. Ivan asked what the man was doing in the rain.

"I am waiting at the door." said the man. Ivan stood still at the statement.

"The door is closed." Said Ivan.

"Then I will come through the window."

"The window is made of Iron."

"Will you not open it?"

"Not a for a stranger." Ivan said. "But I will for a blessing from a friend."

The man laughed. The scorched earth rattled around him. the seeds that had been burned began to grow, leaving strong sprouts of wheat. Ivan bowed. He was grateful for the blessing.

"My mother sends this." Ivan said holding out the bread. The rain did not touch it. the honey continued to smell sweet. "I will bring more in the fall."

"There is a horse on the hill." said the man, "Place them there."

"The horse is dead." said Ivan. what good would such food do for a dead horse?

"We will walk this path again until I am satisfied. Place them atop the horse."

Ivan did as he was told an ran away towards the hill that the horse from the river had been buried on. He understood little about what the man had meant. He knew of paths. There was a path down to the river and a path from the hut to the barn. There was a path worn into the curves of the old field. This path, however, he did not understand. He had never seen the man before.

When he reached the top of the hill, it was no longer dry. The apples that had been placed there were long gone, as was the horse. There was only an empty hole in the ground. Ivan put the bread and honey in the hole where the horse had been. he began to walk home and wondered how he would tell his father that their fields were now blessed.

He began to wonder how to tell his mother that he had been cursed.